Little Falls transcript. [volume] (Little Falls, Morrison County, Minn.) 1876-1894, 1887-07-01
Madame Sainte Catherine.

Madame Sainte Catherine.
BY ANDRE THEURIEL.
Translated from the French for the Den
yer Republican.
I say unto you that there shall be more
Joy in heaven over one sinner that re.
penteth than over ninety and nine right
eous persons who need no repentance
Luke XIV, 7.
One evening in November, on the
eve OF St. GATHERINGS Day, the iron
gate OF the prison at Auberive rolled
back on its hinges and gave passage
to a woman OF about thirty years
age. She was dressed in g. faded
WOODEN gown and wore on her head
white linen cap, adjusted in strange
fashion round her pale features, whose
wan expression betrayed long deten-
ton and meagrefare. Her feIlow~pris-
oners had nicknamed her 1.-The Bre-
tonne" no doubt because she was q
native of Brittany. Condemned for the
heinous crime OF infanticide, she had
been brought to the House of Detention
in PRISON van exactly six years ago,
and had just been set free, having
-erved her time.
After getting back her old clothes
and receiving at the greffe or registry
the ridiculously small sum of money
set aside for her by the prison author
tiles in return for six long years OF
unremitting hard labor, she was now
at last once more free, with her pass
port signed for Langres. The coach,
however, for this latter place, has al
ready left. Timid and awkward, she
directed her faltering steps towards
the nearest inn, with a. tremulous
voice inquired if she could be accom-
modated for the night. The inn was
crowded with customers, and the inn
keeper, who little cared to house birds
OF that feather" advised her to push
on to the wine.shop at the other end
Of the village.
The Bretonne, more awkward and
timid than before, went ON her way
and knocked at the door of the wine
shop, a mere pothouse for navvies:
The publican's wife eyed her mistrust-
fully from head to foot, and guessing
she had just left the Centrale, or pris-
on, sent her off with the excuse that
she did not take in dodgers. Not dar-
ing to insist, the poor woman turned
away with dropping head, while g. feel
ing of anger rose in her heart against
those who thus drove her from their
door.
She had only one thing left to do,
and that was to reach Langres on
foot. Night, however, sets in early
towards the close OF November, so
that darkness soon overlook the way
farer on the dusky road that extend
ed far away through the lonesome
wood, and the north wind blew keen
among the swaying trees, scattering
large heaps OF dead leaves by the way.
During the six long years she had
spent in solitary confinement the
Bretonne had lost the habit of walk
ing; her joints were as ii knotted and
her feet, unused to any but wooden
shoes, were cramped in the leather
ones she had on. After getting over
a league or so OF ground, her heels
were sorely blistered and she felt al
ready tired out. She sank down on a
heap of stones, shuddering at the
thought that she might have to die OF
cold and hunger in SO dark night
and with such a nipping blast that
chilled her to the bone.
Suddenly along the solitary road,
and in the pauses of the cold north
wind, she thought she heard the draw
ling tones Of somebody singing in
the distance. She listened eager
ly, and was soon convinced
that she caught the sound OF
one of those dear, monotonous snatch
es of nursery rhymes, with which
children are nursed to sleep. Rising to
her feet she went in the direction Of
of the voice, and at the turn of the
crossroad beheld q light glinmering
through the branches. Five minutes
after she reached clay built hovel,
the roof of which, covered with clods,
leaned against q rock, and whose only
window gave passage to q Pickering
ray. With anxious heart she resolved
to knock at the door. AS soon as
she had done so the singing ceased,
and q peasant woman came to the
threshold.
She was of about the same age as
the Bretonne, and worn and wasted
with field labor. Her short gown,
which was rent in places sho we'd her
dark, sun-burnt skin; her reddish hair
fell in disorder from underneath g. lit
tie cloth cap, and her grey eyeslooked
with astonishment at the stranger,
whose face had, in fact, something I'M.
usual in it's pallid expression.
"Good evening"" said the peasant
woman, raising the lamp she held in
her hand; "what do you want"
Shelter" murmured the Bretronne
with sigh of deep anguish, ''the town
is yet far of, and if you'd let me put
mp here for the night 'twould be real
blessing. I've money and would glad
~ pay you for your trouble
"Come in,' said the peasant, with,
out much hesitation; ''but," she add,
ed, more out of curiosity than from
any mistrust, "why didn't you stop
at Auberive?" -.
"They wouldn't take me in,'' she
answered. And casting down her blue
eyes, the Bretonne, as from e sense Of
duty, added: Because, you see, I've
just left the Centrale, and that doesn't
give people confidence. :" II
d "Ah. Well. come in all the same.
|. I've little to fear anyway, never hav-
ing had anything but misery for my
lot. It would be unreasonable to
leave Christian out of doors in such
cold weather. I'll make you up a bed
withsa strewing of heather"
The peasant woman went to a shed
and broughtin several armfuls Of dry
meath. which she spread in the corner
near the chimney place. .
you live alone here" ventured the
Bretonne.
yes, with my little girl, who is near